A Strider's Memory
by Ember8123
Summary: Dave wakes up in a hospital room, his head pounding furiously, without any memory of how he ended up there... And without any memory of anybody but himself.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So, here's the first chapter of this new fanfiction I'm going to be working on! Hooray! Sorry it's a little crappy, I wrote it in, like, twenty minutes. ^^;; **

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. That would make me Andrew Hussie, and I am most certainly not Andrew Hussie.**

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Your name is Dave Strider and you just woke up in a fucking hospital bed with those shitty bright-as-all-hell lights shining down in your face, making the headache you had a whole lot worse than it already was. You couldn't recall what exactly landed you in a hell hole like the hospital, but from the fact that you were hooked up to all kinds of crazy machines and shit, you knew that it couldn't be good. You were slightly aware of the beeping beside you (damn that heart monitor was annoying) and of the noises outside of the room you were currently in. What you mostly knew, though, was that you were not alone in this room. You felt a presence and upon trying to sit up to look at whoever was in your room, a sharp pain ran up your spine and your chest and you lied back down with a pained groan, head pounding more than it already was. God, that hurt like hell. You make a note to yourself to not try and sit up any time soon.

"Whoa, little man. Slow down. Don't even try and sit up just yet."

Oh, so now the presence in your room decided to talk. Not only that, but the person decided to stand up and look down on you, which just didn't sit right with you for some reason. The dude had a hat on, though it did nothing to control the blond hair that stuck out from underneath it, a white t-shirt which was tucked into his black jeans, fingerless gloves, and some wickedly ironic anime shades that were dark enough to hide his eyes. You were just about to open your mouth to speak to him before you were cut off by him leaning down to pull you into a hug, a small grunt of pain leaving your lips as he did so.

"Oh, man. I thought you wouldn't wake up. Doctor's said that it was uncertain how long you'd be out for," he said softly, his voice worried despite the pokerface he had on when he was just looking down to you only seconds ago.

You stayed silent for a few seconds before wetting your lips and speaking softly, not moving to hug the taller person back. Instead, you spoke without bothering to even try to avoid the questions that raced through your mind. Might as well be quick and to the point. "Who are you, why am I in a hospital bed, and where the fuck are my shades?" The man hugging you paused, tensing slightly before he let you go and helped you lie back down. Only then did he show the first sign of emotion on his face. He frowned. Not in a disappointed way, but in a saddened way. Like a person that just lost somebody extremely close to them.

"He told me this might happen…" You hear him mumble, getting an eyebrow raised from you in response. "What the hell are you even talking abo-" "You don't remember me." "Of course I don't, I haven't met you before in my life! Why the fuck would I remember somebody I haven't ever met?!" You snap, getting real tired of this bullshit. You remember your life perfectly clear up to this point. You were Dave Strider: a twenty-year-old, ironic, cool dude who threw down sick beats and DJ'd at clubs every weekend to make some extra cash that added to the cash you made by selling your albums online. Without another word, the man in your room handed you your aviators which he pulled from seemingly out of fucking nowhere and left you there alone. Putting your shades on, you crossed your arms with a pokerface and a sigh. That had to be one of the most fucked up things that's ever happened to you, hands down.

**************Be the Stranger****************

You are no stranger to Dave Strider. In fact, you're probably the farthest thing from a Goddamn stranger to him. Or, at least, you were before it became your fault that he was knocked out and then woke up, only having the memory of who he was and nothing else. Your name was Dirk, formerly known to Dave as 'Bro'. Seeing your little brother like this crushed you, even if you never really showed it on the outside. It made your heart twinge with amounts of guilt and sadness - two things which have never been so apparent in your life up until this point. The fact that Dave lost his memory was your fault, and you knew that it was. Your strifes had been gotten more recent since the boy you raised became a man, and the more recent they became, the longer and tougher they got. The memory of kicking Dave in the chest, sending him flying across the rooftop, only to witness him hitting the wall much harder than normal was forever planted in your mind.

_Dave was getting good at this, and you had to admit it. His skills with a sword had been improving fantastically due to the frequent strifes you two had and you would have been proud had you not been in the middle of a strife at the very moment. Your brother took your moment of thought to his advantage and flash stepped towards you, sword at the ready. Sure, he was getting better at using his skills, but he still didn't stand a chance against you. Your boot landed with a 'THUD' against his chest and you heard the sickening crack of a few ribs. You stood there with your eyes wide, watching as your brother's body hit the wall next to the door that lead to the rooftop of your apartment building. Immediately, you flash stepped over to him and took his limp body into your arms. His head was bleeding, having hit the wall at a force that would have been deadly had he not been a Strider. Without hesitation, you picked him up carefully and nearly ran down to your car to take him to the hospital, taking off your shirt and wrapping it around his head in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. As soon as you got there, they took him away on a stretcher, leaving you in the waiting room in a shaking, shirtless mess. It was all your fault, and there was nothing that you could do about it now but wait._

It played over and over every day that you sat by his bedside for the past two weeks, hoping that he would recover and wake up and everything would be fine. You found the doctor that was taking care of the blond that recently woke up and explained the situation calmly, your voice ever keeping it's cool tone with your hands in your pockets and your posture leaned back slightly. You might have seemed relaxed to everybody else, but inside you were freaking out. What if Dave never got his memory back? What was he supposed to do about being home with him? Why the hell did he forget you of all people, the person that was the most present in his life?

"Things like this happen occasionally with patients that have taken a hit too hard to the head. If we give him some time, his memory may or may not come back. You'll just have to attempt to get him to remember somehow. Try and find a trigger object that will somehow stimulate the part of his memory that has been laid to being dormant for now. There's nothing that we can do that will guarantee his memory to come back. I'm sorry, Mr. Str-"

"Dirk."

"Dirk… I wish there was something more that we could do for David."

With that, you witnessed the doctor walk past you to go into Dave's room to check on him, no doubt. You felt as your knees became weak and a sickness pooled up in your gut. Your little brother - the most important person to you - didn't remember you at all. You managed - although barely - to make it into one of the hospital's bathrooms only to have your cool break down and leave you leaning against the sink, using your arms to keep you up since your knees no longer worked. It was like they turned to jelly right at the most inconvenient moment. The next thing you did was something that you would never admit to anybody. You removed your glasses and placed them onto the counter besides one of the sinks in the bathroom, locked the bathroom door, sunk to the floor, and you cried.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hey, guys!~ Heh, I never thought that I would get the kind of response I did for my quick drabble of a first chapter. But, since you guys enjoyed it (even if it might have destroyed your feels a little) I figured I might as well get out a second chapter for you guys! ^^ So, here's chapter two! Enjoy it as much as you possibly can, even if this is another chapter I pumped out in less than an hour. ^^;;**

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. That would make me Andrew Hussie and I am most certainly not Andrew Hussie.**

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Your name is Dave Strider and you're getting pretty sick and tired of all these doctors in your face, asking you questions that you've answered time and time again. Really, all you wanted to do was get the hell out of the place, but they wouldn't let you quite yet and every time that you asked why the fuck not, they just gave you this look. God, doctors were so fucking hard to understand.

"So, David…"

"_Dave_." You lost track of how many times you've had to correct them on that, but it's starting to give you a headache. Well, it would if your headache had ever gone away in the past few days. Your name was David, yes, but you'll be damned if you let anybody get away with calling you that. Dave was such a cooler name.

"Dave," the doctor quickly corrects himself, "Do you remember anything at all about what happened to have you wind up here in the hospital?"

"I already told you that I don't remember! It must have been some freak accident or something. Dammit, you people don't fucking listen, do you?" Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, hiding them behind your shades as you glare at the man in front of you. You can tell that he can feel you glaring by the way he shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat.

"Well, Dave… I suppose that an explanation is in order, isn't it?"

You open your mouth to ask what the fuck he's talking about before, lo and behold, the dude with the fucking anime shades is walking into your room. You haven't seen him since the day you woke up in the God-awful place and, quite frankly, you didn't want to see him again. He made no fucking sense!

"Oh, God, it's you…" you grumble, bringing up your palm to meet your forehead as you sigh. Lowering your hand for a few seconds later, you look up to find that the doctor left you _alone_ with this man. Could any more stupid decisions be made today?! Well, apparently so since the stranger sat down in a chair and handed you a bag that was obviously filled with at him skeptically, you took the bag and opened it to find that it contained a double burger with everything on it except for mayo and some fries. Seeing this made you thank the ironic heavens that this man showed up and handed you some good food. Because, let's face it, hospital food sucks ass and you were starting to get sick of it. Grunting out your thanks, you immediately take the food out of the bag and begin chowing down before the man places a rather large bottle of apple juice on your bedside table. Man, this dude knows how to please you.

Wait… Wait just a Goddamn second. Did he really just know what you wanted to eat and what your favorite drink was? Just who the fuck _was_ this guy?! You slow down your chewing and you raise an eyebrow at him, placing the burger down on its wrapper for now as you cross your arms carefully.

"Who the hell are you and how do you know my favorite drink and what I wanted to eat in a place like this?"

"I figured you wanted something else besides frozen pizza."

"Wh- How the do you even know that's all I eat?!"

"Because I'm the magical fairy that lives in your closet. Poof, your wish has been fucking granted."

"Cut the bullshit."

He leans back in the chair and he sighs, taking off his cap only to run his fingers through it and put it back on again. "Okay, I'm gonna make this real short and simple for you. I'm your older brother, you used to call me Bro before… Before you landed up in this hospital and woke up without any memory of it happening or any memory for me or anybody else that doesn't include you."

You sit there, unblinking, with wide eyes beneath your glasses. This wasn't fucking happening. Sure, the dude looked a lot like you but you just figured that was coincidence! Then you thought about it. The first time he was here, he mumbled something about not remembering and then he had that _look _on his face like somebody died and they were never coming back…What if this guy was your brother, and what if he was telling the truth and you did lose all your memory? … Only one way to find out.

"What do I do in my spare time?"

"You draw Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff. And sometimes, if you're feeling ironic and cool, you'll watch some shitty TV specials."

"Where do I live?"

"In a shitty apartment building just a few miles from here. Floor six number 7B."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I'm your brother and we live together and I raised you from when you were just a fucking baby that clung to just about everything."

"Are you being serious?" The last question was unnecessary, as you could tell that he was not fucking around. Anybody, no matter how cool they were, wouldn't be able to answer that smoothly and that quickly. But there was one question that needed to be answered, and you would be damned if you were going home with him before you got it all cleared up for you.

"What landed me in this hell hole?" You began to eat again, taking the last few bites of your burger and eating the last few fries you had before picking up the apple juice only to take a few sips. Seeing Bro tense up, you couldn't help but wonder why and you stayed silent, only signaling for him to hurry the fuck up with the explanation. You waited for what seemed like for-fucking-ever before he began to speak again.

"… We were strifing on the roof of the apartment building like we normally do. Since you've gotten older you've been getting real good at handling shitty swords and stuff, although still not good enough to avoid getting buried beneath smuppets whenever I set a trap for you. Thinking about that, you obviously thought you had an opening and you flash stepped towards me, as a result getting my large ass boot in your chest, which is the reason your ribs are cracked. I kicked a little harder than I ever meant to, thinking you could handle it since you were older… You slammed against the wall right beside the door and you went unconscious immediately."

He took a deep breath and your fingers dug into the sheets on either side of you as you waited for him to finish explaining. Your throat went dry, but you couldn't bring yourself to reach for the apple juice to take another sip. You just couldn't. Not right now.

"I picked you up, wrapped my shirt around your head to stop the bleeding, and drove you here. They took you away and… And you were out for almost two weeks, lil' man. They allowed me in here every day to stay by your side, and I was hoping that you would wake up… But it's obvious that when you hit your head, you lost some of your memory… So it's my fault, dude. It's been my fault since the beginning and I'm so fucking sorry."

You blinked a few times, trying to process all of this in your apparently memory-lost brain. So, it was your Bro's fault that you were in the hospital… Sure, it was a fucking accident, but it was still his fault. You looked back at him and you licked your lips before speaking again.

"I swear to God, when we get home, I am going to kick your ass for landing me in the hospital." With your response, you could have sworn you saw him crack a smile just then but you couldn't be sure, as it was gone as quick as it came. Only then did the doctor come back in, obviously having waited outside the door until you were finished talking to your older brother you didn't even remember. But, hell, he knew everything about you. Maybe there was something that he could do to help you remember…

"Well, Davi-… Dave," he had to correct himself before you did it for him for the millionth fucking time, "If you feel that you're ready to go home, we can allow it. All we need to do is patch you up a little bit and set up a continuous infusion pump, and allow you to go home."

"What the fuck is a continuous infusion pump?!"

"It allows you to go home, for one, and it will pump a local anesthetic through your body to allow you a pain-free two weeks before we have to remove the catheter. However, you'll still have eight more weeks to heal after that. It would be ten, had you not been in a coma for two weeks prior to waking up. But after it's removed, no heavy lifting, no _strifes_, and you can't sleep on your side or your stomach."

Sighing at all the damn detail they provided you with - couldn't doctors just explain things in a shorter, easier way? - you nodded nonetheless and ran a hand through your hair. "Fine, fine, just set me up with the fucking infusion thing." That was probably one of the smartest things you've ever said, and they went to work.

A few hours later, you were in the car with Bro, heading back to the shitty apartment that you couldn't believe you didn't remember you shared.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey, guys! Sorry it's been a while since I've updated, but here's the third chapter of A Strider's Memory! We finally get to see another character besides Dave and Bro and... Gosh, I feel like you people are going to kill me after this chapter. -takes refuge under blanket- Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Homestuck or the characters. That would make me Andrew Hussie and I am most certainly not Andrew Hussie.**

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Your name is Dave Strider and you can't fucking believe it. The very moment you walked into the apartment, you knew exactly where everything was. Oh yes, this was most certainly your shitty apartment. What put the fucking icing on the cake, however, was that you couldn't fucking believe you couldn't remember you shared the apartment with someone, much less somebody who claimed to be your own brother. Okay, it wasn't just a claim. With all the shit the guy knew about you, you knew damn well that he wasn't joking around in the slightest when he said that you were his younger brother. Either that, or the guy was a serious creep who just so happened to know where you live, when you were born, what you did in your spare time, what you ate all the time, and what your favorite drink was. Yes, the guy very well could have been a stalker. Ah, shit, you felt so stupid now… Oh well, it was kind of too late now, wasn't it?

"Welcome home, lil' man."

The statement nearly made you jump out of your skin. During your thoughts, you somehow managed to find your way over to the couch only to sit down and lean back to relax. That state was shattered as soon as you heard 'Bro' speak randomly behind you, leaving you wondering how the hell he managed to do that without you noticing or even hearing him. You said nothing, but instead nodded in response, leaning back against the couch once more with a content sigh.

"Lil' Cal missed you, too."

"Who the hell is Lil' C- Holy Jesus fuck!" Out of nowhere, a creepy ass puppet randomly appeared right in front of your face, causing you to nearly fall off the couch and your shades to fall half way off their perch, hanging by an earpiece. Damn, that puppet was fucking creepy and you would be damned if you didn't see the slightest smirk of amusement on Bro's face. Ugh… You hated puppets. They were just… They were just plain no and the puppet with its blue eyes and gold tooth was no exception to that thought.

"Aww, is that any way to treat part of the family?" Bro asked almost mockingly, setting Lil' Cal down on his shoulder so casually as you fixed your shades into their rightful place once more. Really, it was no shock to you how natural that creepy thing seemed to look on his shoulder. The dude was weird to begin with, might as well have a weird obsession over something… Even if it was an obsession with something that you had a major problem with.

Once again, you said nothing in response to the question and reached for the remote, only to have it suddenly disappear and for your bro to be sitting right next to you, TV remote in hand. Now there really was no doubt that this guy was your brother, or at least related to you somehow. The only person you knew that could pull off a flash step like that was yourself but seeing Bro do it just confirmed that he was, no doubt, a Strider.

"Only I get the remote," he said firmly, turning on the TV.

"Fine. Just don't turn on something shitty," you replied, kicking your feet up naturally on the coffee table. In an instant, Bro knocked your feet down by nudging them off with his own foot.

"Get your fucking feet off the table. We eat there, you know."

"Fuck you. I was just trying to get comfortable, asshat."

"Language."

You rolled your eyes but kept your feet off of the table, sitting there in silence until…

"_My Little Pony!~_"

The lyrics of the theme song reverberated in your ears and you slowly turned your head to look at Bro, your mouth hanging open slightly and a somewhat disturbed look in your eyes. This guy. This tough as hell dude with ironic anime shades and a deep, baritone voice liked My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic… The thought had to settle in your mind before you spoke up again.

"I thought I said nothing shitty."

"_Language,_" he corrected you again, although you knew that he was just doing it to be annoying now, "and what are you talking about? My Little Pony is the shit."

Your hand met your forehead with a rather loud and firm 'smack', clearly signifying your face-palm. Not the smartest idea, as that brought back your headache very quickly and you couldn't help but wince a little bit as the migraine pounded against your skull once more. Shaking your head a little bit as your hand lowered, you said nothing more and just decided to forget about it to watch the show with Bro, attempting to ignore your brain feeling like it was going to just pound away at your skull like a fucking jackhammer.

As soon as the show ended, Bro brought out his phone and sent a quick text to somebody before shoving his phone back in his pocket. You would have asked who the hell he was talking to, but you quickly figured you most likely wouldn't care (or even if you did, wouldn't remember who said person was), so you kept your mouth shut.

It took another episode of MLP before the doorbell was rung and you groaned softly. You just got rid of your goddamn headache, and here it came again just to be an asshole. Cursing softly, getting another mocking scolding from your brother, you got up and answered the door to open it. However, as soon as you did, you wheezed in pain as you were trapped in a rib-crushing hug by a boy a few inches shorter than you, and sporting a messy black mop that one could hardly call hair on top of his head.

****************Be the Bastard Squeezing the Fuck Out of Dave***************

You didn't mean to hurt him! Really, you didn't! You were just so happy to see him again!

Your name is John Egbert, and you couldn't believe your best friend was awake and out of the hospital.

You clearly remember the day you got a text from Dave's brother, Dirk. The text was obviously frantically typed, as there were a few spaces missing and a few spelling errors which wasn't common for the man. But as soon as you read over the text and saw 'hospital' you knew something terrible must have happened. You've never heard of a Strider bring landed in the hospital, so this was really serious. Without reading anything more, you rushed over to that hospital only to find that your best bro was unconscious and in a hospital bed and they had no idea when he was going to wake up. Needless to say, you were kind of an emotional wreck after that. Dave was the only person that you could truly talk to. Yes, there was Rose but she was analyzing, and Jade was as well. At least she was analyzing in a friendly way. You never understood how women could read others like a book at times…

But, anyway, Dave Strider was your very first friend since you moved from Washington. He was the only person that seemed to put up with you and since you met in seventh grade, you two stuck like glue. Through break-ups, birthdays, pet deaths, and anything else that went on in your lives, you were with each other through thick and thin. You were inseparable, and it was crushing to hear that Dave was in the hospital, unable to see you or even hear you speak to him. You knew very well that the blow was harder on Bro, but you couldn't help but feel your heart shatter as well, and you stayed by Dave's side while you cried and Bro rubbed circles on your back, silent tears falling from his eyes as well.

It was harder, too, knowing that Dave just might have never woken up and you would have never been able to tell him how much he meant to you and how you really felt about him. Yes, you loved Dave Strider, your best bro, the person that you joked around with and laughed and teased and pranked all the time.

It did take a while for you to accept it - years of claiming 'no homo' to everybody tended to do that - but once you did it was like a whole weight was lifted off of your heart, and you came to accept that maybe, just maybe, you were a tiny bit homo… Especially for your best bro. Of course, the teasing did continue, but you couldn't help but hope that every time that you and Dave joked around about being attracted to one another, that he was telling the truth.

So, when you got the text a mere half hour before, saying that Dave was awake and at home, you did rush to your car to drive there. A smile was permanently planted on your face the entire drive there, and you couldn't help but feel your stomach turn with the excitement of seeing Dave again. What you didn't see, however, was the last part of the text saying that your best bro lost his memories.

"Dave, I missed you so much! I thought you would never wake up!" you blurted out quickly, lifting your head to look at the slightly taller blond, who was extremely tense.

A long silence passed and you couldn't help but see Bro's small, pitying frown as he sighed. You gave both Striders a weird look, silently questioning why nobody was saying anything to one another.

"Come on, guys, who died…?" you asked, trying to lighten the mood. The words that came out of Dave's mouth next, however, sent your world and heart crashing down to the ground.

"Bro… Who the hell is this kid?"


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hey, guys! Sorry I haven't updated in so long, my internet was down for a while. Luckily, I had this all typed up for you guys so please don't kill me for being gone. ^^;; I'm sorry! So sorry... But here's the fourth chapter! Enjoy~ **

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"Bro… Who the hell is this kid?"

The question couldn't be avoided in your mind, truly, for you were absolutely fucking confused. How on earth did this kid know your name and where you lived, and why was he hugging you and… And why did he look so hurt as soon as those words left your lips? Looking behind you, you noticed your bro, the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. Could you have just possibly known this kid? Ah, shit…

"Dave… Dave, it's me! It's John. Your best bro!"

Best bro? Best bro?! Not only did you clearly know this little derp, you were his best friend before your mind got all fucked up thanks to a strife and you forgot everything. Clearing your throat a little before speaking, you looked back down at the boy whose arms had long since dropped back down to his sides. Oh God, his lip was quivering. He was gonna cry. You really didn't want him to cry for some reason. It would make you feel guilty beyond belief - not like you weren't already feeling guilty for not remembering him.

"Ah… Uh…" Fuck. Stammering. Not one of the coolest things you've ever done.

"He doesn't remember anything besides himself, Egbert," your bro spoke up behind you, though he didn't move from his spot from the sound of it.

At this, John looked down and you could have sworn you heard him whimper a little bit, which didn't exactly help the guilt that twisted your gut and flipped it upside down.

"O-Oh…" he mumbled, though you could barely even hear him say it.

All of a sudden, as if everything just rolled off his shoulders, John looked up at you with a wide grin on his face, his eyes sparkling with an emotion that was, surprisingly enough, happiness.

"Then I guess we'll just have to start over and make new memories until you can get your old ones back!" A hand was suddenly held out to you as an obvious gesture of introduction, "My name's John Egbert. I live about ten minutes away from here."

You took his hand and shook it a little before letting go, actually happy to have your first friend besides Bro to confide and talk to since you woke up in that shitty hospital room. Sure, the happiness didn't exactly show thanks to the pokerface you still wore, but you had the strangest feeling that John could see past the shades and past the façade of coolness. Was this what it was like to have a best bro? Somebody who knew you just that well that they knew what was going on in your mind no matter what you decided to show on your face? You supposed that it was what it was like and at the moment, you didn't exactly know if you liked having somebody able to see past every wall of defense you put up.

"I guess I should say it's nice to meet you, then."

The smirk that your brother had on his face could be felt from a mile away, and it was digging into your back. You knew without turning around that it wasn't an 'I'm-so-much-better-than-you' smirk, or a 'Yeah-I'm-awesome' smirk, no. It was a knowing smirk. As if he knew something was going to happen sooner or later, just what he knew was possibly going to happen was beyond you. Yet, it wouldn't stop it from bugging you in the back of your mind. John, on the other hand, had the widest grin on his face as if he were waiting for you to say something more. So, you spoke again without another moment of hesitation.

"You wanna come in and watch TV or something?"

"Pff- Of course I do!"

With that, you walked back to the couch and sat back down in your claimed spot, figuring that John knew very well what to do. Thankfully, you were right as the other closed the door and walked over to take the spot next to you and your brother.

"Aw, man, MLP again?" he said with a soft sigh, looking over at your brother.

"My Little Pony is the shit, Egbert. Better than your movies, anyway."

"Hey! Cage is sweet! And so is McConaughey!"

"Whatever you say."

Obviously, you were missing out on something as your brother and John both turned to you and, at the same time, spoke.  
"What do you think, Dave?"

"Well… MLP isn't the coolest thing out there-"

"Ha! I told you!"

"But Cage and McConaughey both suck ass, too."

At this, Bro actually chuckled and John groaned and face palmed. That moment in time, however, made you feel content with everything and you couldn't help but think that everything was going to be just fine whether you got your memory back or not.

It was also right then and there that you actually realized you didn't mind having somebody know you beneath the shades, even if you didn't know them quite yet and even if you weren't sure at first if you truly minded it. Yes, Bro obviously knew what went on in your mind during every second of the day, but he was your brother and they were supposed to be like that. John, on the other hand, was not related to you and even though in your mind you just met, you felt at peace knowing damn well that you could be yourself around him no matter what. Not only that, but when you were in public and your mask was in place again, he could read you like a book and you could have silent conversations that would no doubt lead to him laughing seemingly at himself. You most certainly would have to hang out with John more in the future, to actually build up the broship you guys once had according to him and Bro. Maybe you could even make this new broship better than the one you had before you lost your memory! Okay, that was kind of unlikely. Then again, it would be hard to judge since you had no memories to base the new one off of. Eh, you'd just have to ask John about it later.

You felt happy even as you turned back to the TV with your pokerface to continue watching MLP with your brother and your first friend. Just sitting there, though, made you realize that you were probably going to become best bros with John again in no time at all… Even if the dude did have terrible taste in movies and looked like a total dork, you found it all… Endearing? Was that the term? Hell no, that wasn't the term! That was not a term Striders used while talking about another person! No. You found it… Amusing. Yes. Amusing. Nonetheless, whatever you felt about it, you knew that this was the start of one hell of a beautiful broship.

**************Be John*************

Oh, you are absolutely ecstatic to be John again! In fact, you are nearly bouncing off the walls in happiness at the fact you get to be the little derp again! You are so fucking happy about this that you just may in fact explode from the sheer excitement of it all!

Okay, seriously though, you are absolutely happy about being in Dave's house at the moment. Sure, he might not remember you, but you could very well build up the friendship again. Either way, you couldn't be any more at content with the world than you were right now. Everything was almost back to normal. Bro wasn't upset about anything, Dave was still the sarcastic dude you knew and loved, and you could still see past the shades and pokerface that said sarcastic dude always wore. Maybe it would be even easier than it was back in seventh grade when you first moved here! It really was hard to read him most of the time before you got used to the seemingly never-ending sarcasm that came from the blond's lips, and it took even longer for you to learn to decipher what was truly behind the sarcasm.

Luckily, you already had the skills to do that, so, hopefully, the broship could be built faster than ever before. Obviously, things were already going well if you were currently next to your almost-best-bro and his brother, watching My Little Pony. Ooh! Maybe you guys could hold the world record for fastest-built-broship! Was there a world record for that sort of thing? Eh, you'd have to Google it later. Ah, it was just like old times… Except your best bro didn't exactly remember the old times, but those were simply details, weren't they?

By the time the near MLP marathon ended, the sun had gone down and you looked over to find Dave sleeping besides you, mouth hanging open as he breathed silently. The sight brought a smile to your face, though you jumped a little as Bro spoke to you.

"It's too bad you never got to tell him how you felt, Kid. I'm sorry about that."

The words made you frown slightly and you looked down, running a hand through your hair to think a little. After about a minute, you looked back up at him and you managed to smile as you shook your head.

"It's fine. We're building the broship back up again and… And maybe I'll get another chance to tell him one day!"

A chuckle left the taller Strider's lips as he stood and stretched slightly. Like the smirk you had seen hours before on his face, it was a knowing chuckle and you stood as well with a soft groan.

"I'd better get going, Mr. Strider."

"How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Bro?"

"As of that time it has been three hundred and twenty seven times since you've told me repeatedly to just call you Bro."

This managed to bring a laugh from the taller man and you smiled at him, waving behind you while walking to the door.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then!"

"I'll be sure to tell Dave you're coming over."

"Psh. He knows."

"How do you know he knows?"

"He's my best bro, isn't he? He knows."

"If you say so."

"Of course. Broship lasts through anything!"

With that, you left the apartment and quietly closed the door behind you as you did so. You just barely managed to hear a chuckle before the door closed completely, and you could have sworn you heard Bro say something but you just brushed it off and walked down the stairs to go to your car.

************Be Bro For A Second************

You did, indeed, say something softly, although, it was directed towards your sleeping brother.

"You know, Lil' Man... I wish that you told John how you felt before I fucked up…"

Getting nothing but silence in return, you carefully picked Dave up and carried him to bed just like he was a little kid again.


End file.
